Light A Single Candle and I'll Come Home
by goddessa39
Summary: Buffy left a poem as a note to her mother at the end of S2. This kind of travels off from there. BA of course.


Title: Light a candle and I'll Come Home.

Author: Goddessa39

Emails: 

Spoilers: B2 kinda

Summary: A letter to Joyce from Buffy brings her home eventually.

Timeline: End S2 or Beginning S3

Pairing: BA

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic itself. Amywyn at ?sid5713 owns most of the poem though.

Feedback: Please. I need my reason for writing- your ideas and me knowing my work is read.

Rating: (May change. But I cannot write NC-17.)

Notes/Changes: This shows the letter that Buffy wrote. Things change from there.

……………………………..

Light a single candle  
for this fate I did not choose.  
Through it I have lost  
more than I knew I had to loose.

Light a single candle  
for those I could not save.  
I failed them in my duty.  
I sent them to their grave.

Light a single candle  
for a love that once burned true.  
Even if I could get him back,  
would he forgive what I had to do?

Light a single candle  
for a decision made while lost.  
When I started on this path alone  
I never counted on the cost.

Light a single candle  
for all I didn't say.  
But the faces that I longed to see  
I could not face by light of day.

Light a single candle  
for faith in friends betrayed.  
I know now I should not have left,  
but not how I could have stayed.

Light a single candle  
for my battered heart and soul.  
I cannot fill these empty spaces,  
I left all that made me whole.

Light a single candle.  
For I've done nothing but fail.  
I hold each pain here in my hand,   
each one a coffin nail.

Light a single candle.  
They cannot love me still,  
but loneliness on top of grief  
is too much a bitter pill.

So I ask the wind to tell the birds  
to beg them this for me.  
Light a single candle  
on this path I cannot see  
and lead me safely home again,  
where I so need to be.

Light a single candle

With my Angel in the room

So I can glance upon his face

And come following path home

Where love burns true.

I will see you,

And smile upon the day.

But until then,

I probably won't see you again,

But know that I love you.

Light a single candle,

And watch the flame burn red.

I know I'll wake up screaming here,

In this motel bed.

But until then,

I'll be here,

Waiting for my Angel dear.

That poem lay on a paper that Joyce found in the disheveled room of her daughter's when she went to check on her, to see if she had come home. But the room had things missing, including her daughter. The important things like Mr. Gordo and some of the clothes were gone. The drawers were obviously gone through, and some clothes lay strewn on the bed from the ransacking of the closets.

Joyce had bent down to the bed and held her right hand to her mouth as she slowly picked up the cream parchment paper and made herself read. She sat on the bed and cried when she realized this wasn't a bad dream.

An hour later, she was headed to the library, to talk to Mr. Giles. She didn't really like the guy since he was always around, more then she herself seemed to be, but mostly because Buffy had said that he knew of her night life.

The letter was clutched in her pocket and her hands were oddly cold in the Californian weather that seemed to be in Sunnydale today. It was early, and she knew that, but she opened the doors to the library anyways. Sure enough, the man was sitting there with a book in his hands, and bandages on his fingers. The brunette girl she knew was Cordelia, who was sitting in a chair paying close attention to her nails was sitting next to a tired vision of Xander. In a wheelchair, Willow was pushed up to the table, typing away on the computer; with the boy Joyce had seen lately strumming a guitar behind her, on the steps.

It took the door to close for any of them to notice anyone had come in. And they all stared when they realized who it was.

"Mrs. Summers. Uhm..." Giles began, but he didn't know what to say. She looked bad, like she had been crying. He had feared the worst for a moment, the possibility of Buffy's death hanging over all of them.

"Hey Mrs. Summers!" Cordy said brightly, trying not to show how worried she really was. She avoided commenting on the fashion sense and need of makeup. At least Buffy had taste. But she was nice and supportive right at the moment.

"Hi Mrs. Summers." Willow said, after Queen C. "Uhm. What are you doing here?" she asked, bringing up the question that they all were thinking.

Joyce sighed and prepared herself to explain.

………………………………

TBC?

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